t enough to me, for she was mine
again, and our manse light had been rekindled.

For the rest, I was willing to wait, on which after all hangs the
reality of all joy or sorrow. Every grief hath that opportunity of cure;
every joy that peril of vicissitude. Till time hath ceased from her
travail, no man can tell her offspring's sex, whether it be rugged care,
or sweet and tender joy.

Meantime, Margaret nestled again within the old tender place and we both
struggled to nourish our phantom joy. Counterfeit though we both
discerned it, yet it passed unchallenged between us and at least kept
our souls' commerce from decay. Counterfeit I have called it, for the
tenure of another's love was upon her; and her stay with us was like
that of a sailor lad who is for a time ashore, waiting for the tardy
tide.

* * * * *

The ordination Sabbath was aglow with holy light. God surely loves
Presbyterian high days, for they are nearly always beautiful. St.
Cuthbert's was filled long before eleven with a reverent and expectant
congregation. Five new elders had been elected, three of them their
father's successors, for this was a common custom in New Jedboro, and
apostolic succession in disguise was in high favour amongst us. Another
was a man of seventy or more, for every ordination must recognize the
stalwarts whose days of activity were past but whose time for honour was
at hand. The remaining elder-elect was Angus Strachan. His choice by the
congregation had been unanimous and cordial. His examination by the
Session had resulted in hearty confirmation. Our manse tragedy was
unknown to any of the elders except Mr. Blake, who preserved complete
silence throughout the interview. The ordeal was painful beyond words to
me--but it was over, and Angus sat in the front pew with the other four,
awaiting ordination to their sacred office.

We had sung the psalm which from time immemorial Presbyterian ministers
have announced on all ecclesiastical occasions, the hundred and second
psalm, the second version, from the thirteenth verse, reading over
again, as their habit is, the first two lines:

"Thou shalt arise and mercy yet
Thou to Mount Zion shalt extend;"

the venerable Dr. Inglis of Moffat had preached the sermon from the
text:--"Feed the flock of God which is among you," and the elders elect
took their places before the pulpit.

I addressed them in what I considered fitting terms, recalling